An Afternoon's Distraction
by Scarby
Summary: [Farf/Nagi] It all started with a silent house and a cigarette...


Title: An Afternoon's Distraction

Author: Scarby

Disclaimer: I disclaim. It all belongs to...um...well, not me!

WARNING: Whether you like it or not, this story includes love transcending gender. If you flame me over this, I'll flame you back! 

Serious couples, whether you want them or not: Farf/Nagi, hints at Brad/Schu

Summary: It all started with a silent house and a cigarette...

Note: Like a few others, I believe there's more to Farfie than just the Berserker, just like there's more to Schu than a sardonic mind-fuck, more to Nagi than teenage angst, and more to Brad than anal-retentiveness. :) Anyway, without further ado (or further a-don't!) I present...a lucid Farfarello! (crickets chirp)

'Oh, and anything between these single quotations is Nagi's thoughts.'

*Wow, a dedication! This is to Rhys, the author of "Lovers in Flames", which you should really read! It's great! Anyway, she allowed me to use the Sidhe reference in here. THANK YOU! Oh, and a Sidhe is an elf, which I think Nagi kind of looks like.*

An Afternoon's Distraction

Nagi hated it when the house was silent and he was bored. And unoccupied mind generally led to contemplative questioning, prodded by the lull of distracting commotion heard every day in the Schwarz household.

Unable to concentrate on either the computer or his homework, the teen wandered around the house, poking at odds and ends. He plopped down on the couch for a second before springing up again and resuming his small walkabout. 

His meandering soon led him to the door of the basement, and Nagi smiled, turning the handle.

'Perhaps Farfarello could provide distraction...'

As he walked down the flight of stairs, the teenager caught a whiff of smoke intermingled with the scent of old, coppery blood, and Nagi frowned.

'Schuldich's down here...?'

When he turned towards the source of the smoke, he smiled and folded his arms across his chest.

"Since when do you smoke, Farfarello?" Nagi wasn't really interested, simply highly amused as he watched the white-haired man bring the cigarette to his lips and inhale deeply. Farf didn't choke or cough at the smoke malignantly invading his lungs.

He shrugged. "Since forever." Flicking the excess ashes into a nearby ashtray, he gestured with his cigarette. "Was finally able to steal one from Schu while he was...preoccupied." At Nagi's raised eyebrow, he laughed. "Ye know, checkin' out our fearless leader and whatnot."

The telekinetic smirked sarcastically, settling down next to the Irishman on the floor, his back flush against the wall. "Yeah, *there's* a match made in...somewhere." Frowning, wary of setting off the oddly-lucid psychopath, Nagi hesitantly asked, "Where do you think we'll go when we die?"

Just as quietly and sanely, Farf answered, "It's said that, if we repent our sins, God will forgive us and welcome his wayward children back with open arms." A snort. "Somehow, I doubt there's enough penance in the world to allow us entrance to Heaven."

"But we can't end up in Hell." Nagi chuckled sardonically. "They'd be afraid we'd overthrow them."

Barking a sharp laugh, he said, "Aye, Sidhe. 'Tis true." He took another drag.

"So, where does that leave us?"

After crushing his spent cigarette in the ashtray, Farfarello flung an arm around the smaller boy's shoulders, drawing him closer. Leaning next to his ear, Farfie whispered, "Looks like we'll be immortal after all. Only Earth."

With a shiver at the warm, smoky breath caressing his ear, Nagi nodded.

Farf drew back, his voice raising above the whisper, though his arm remained. "Why the serious thoughts, Sidhe?"

Nagi shrugged lightly. "I guess I think too much."

"Not always a bad thing. But ye're worrying over things no one can control. Ye're too depressed."

"Teenagers are supposed to be depressed."

"I'm not."

A pointed glare. "You're nineteen. That's practically out of the teenage stage." Nagi sighed. "I have years yet to live through what every teen lives through."

"Since when do we do *anything* other people do?"

Nagi smiled broadly. "Thanks, Farfie."

He smiled back, another cigarette appearing in his hand. Quickly, he placed it between Nagi's lips and then followed suit with one of his own. He lit both, inhaling indulgently at his.

Hesitantly, Nagi inhaled some smoke into his mouth, cautious of the acrid smoke entering lungs unaccustomed to such sensations. The dryness bit into his tongue and the wet insides of his cheeks. Removing the white and tan stick, Nagi breathed out, and he felt a strange, artificial calm radiate from his lungs out to the extremities of his body.

"Huh," he sighed. "Now, I understand why you like it." Mentally, he pulled the ashtray closer to himself and physically extinguished his cigarette. "But it still makes me nauseous."

Farfarello laughed. "At least ye tried it. Can't blame ye. 'Tis a dirty habit." He breathed in, holding the smoke in his mouth like one may hold a decadent chocolate. 

For a few minutes, they sat next to each other, the Irishman intermittently bringing his cigarette to his lips until it, too, burnt almost to the filter. He flicked the remains into the ashtray.

"Why d'ye come down here, Nagi?" Farfarello whispered, true confusion staining his nicotine-tainted lips. 

"Because we're friends," came the boy's immediate and true answer.

"Friends..." he murmured. Suddenly, he asked, "Why?"

Nagi blinked. "Because."

With a snort, Farf shook his head. "That's not an answer."

"Why does everything need an answer?" he rhetorically countered. "I'm friends with you because I want to be. I like you."

The white-haired man tilted his head quizzically. "There's a reason for everything." Abruptly, he asked, "Why don't you like smoking?"

"Makes me sick."

"See? Reason for everything."

"Trust me. There' no real reason for what's between us?"

"What is between us?"

Nagi paused. "We're friends."

"So you've said."

"You're rather lucid today."

"Crawford's trying new meds on me."  


"Where *is* Crawford? I haven't seen him all day."

"Probably off fucking Schuldich somewhere."

"Ha, ha."

"You think I'm kidding?"

The boy paused, considering. "Schu'd be good for Crawford. Loosen him up and all."

"Ye mean shake that stick outta his arse."

Nagi smirked. "That, too."

"Some people are a good influence on others." Unexpectedly, his arm, previously draped bonelessly across Nagi's shoulders, involuntarily tightened, emitting a small gasp from the telekinetic. Again, he leaned close to Nagi's ear and whispered, "Ye're a good influence on me, Sidhe."

He didn't pull back. 

Nagi swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. "The medication is good to you, Farfarello."

He laughed low in his throat. "Ye're me best meds, Sidhe."

Before Nagi could respond, the arm around his shoulders dropped to his waist and turned him to face the Irishman, who placed his other hand on the boy's cheek.

And Farfarello kissed him.

Nagi had suspected, as of recent, that the one-eyed killer kissed like he killed: brutally dominant and merciless.

So, naturally, when he simply pressed his lips to the boy's, neither taking nor demanding, Nagi could only stare with bewilderment into his amber eye, unable to move or even *think* from the shock.

With regretful fingers brushing Nagi's cheek, Farf made to move away, obviously taking his unresponsiveness as rejection. 

Instantly, Nagi's hand flew to the back of the older teen's neck, his other hand clutching the front of his shirt. Their lips pressed together once more, Farf's slightly open in shock, and so Nagi tentatively brushed the tip of his tongue against Farfie's bottom lip. When he felt the arm around his waist tighten, he took the encouragement and dipped into Farfarello's mouth, blue eyes slipping shut at the enveloping warmth.

Nagi could still taste the remains of the smoke, yet, somehow, it didn't make him nauseous. Smiling into the kiss, he stroked against Farf's tongue, and, instantly, the two twirled and spun to and age-old rhythm.

Suddenly, Farfarello pushed Nagi's tongue out of his mouth and followed into the warm mouth. After a moment, Nagi felt the Irishman bite his bottom lip and instantly trail his tongue along the blood.

His smile growing with a soft moan, the telekinetic thought, 'This is more like how I iNagined he'd be like.'

After a few more minutes, Farf slowly pulled back with a wistful sigh, his body relaxed and his eye still closed. Nagi curled up in Farf's lap, content at the silence. 

Quietly, the white-haired teen murmured, "More calming than an entire carton of Marlboro Reds, ye are, Sidhe."

Nagi smiled. "Have you ever actually smoked an entire carton at once, Farfie?"

The psychopath's only response was to smile enigmatically with a hint of his previous insanity.

Laughing, Nagi nuzzled affectionately into the older teen's cheek. "Wacko."

His eye half-opening, Farfarello tightened his hold on the boy and nodded lethargically. "Yup."

And in the smoky confines of a bloodstained basement in the arms of a strangely-lucid and relaxed psychopath, Nagi didn't mind the house's silence with such an enjoyable distraction close at hand.

Feedback: HELL YEAH! I'll take anything, even FLAMES to keep my ego up. Yes, I AM saying what you think I'm saying... Flame me! I dare you! ...but I prefer regular criticism. So email me at scarby13@hotmail.com or just press that convenient little button down there. C'mon, it's not that hard... Just do it! Succumb to the peer pressure!

~Clamat, sed ubi asinus est?~


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